


Unfinished Business

by S_M_F (Autistic_Ace)



Category: The Silver Arrow (Lev Grossman)
Genre: A smattering of OCs show up as well., Don't copy to another site, Gen, I had to make up a last name for this family orz., The joys of sad flashbacks. :'), There is technically a canon death! Just not of a human or animal.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29002566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autistic_Ace/pseuds/S_M_F
Summary: The thing about looking after the world - whether you're a conductor like Kate and Tom, or a park ranger, or someone working directly to clean up the woods and seas - is that the work can always be considered unfinished.And sometimes, just sometimes, the work isn't finished withyou.
Kudos: 2





	1. Unexpected Interactions

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again; here I am with yet another new fandom. If you haven't heard of this book before, I HIGHLY recommend it.
> 
> Also, this fic will contain many, many spoilers for it as a matter of course.
> 
> My plan is to upload a new chapter for this **every two days** \- the work itself is complete bar some last-minute editing, but the vast majority is ready for posting.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The morning - it wouldn’t do to call it ‘dawn’, for it was still dark - after Kate’s birthday found her blinking sleepily up at the comforting shadows of her own ceiling, in a bed that _definitely_ felt snug now that she’d known what it was like to be without it for weeks on end.   
She’d thought she had heard something _,_ someone in the house maybe, or something as mundane as crickets outside, or-   
_-SCREEEEEEE!-_   
Kate jolted upright in bed, that terrible noise fading out, out, away - into the woods, she thought, rushing up and out of her room to check on-   
Tom, who ran into her, with a look of alarm on his face and his hair at its most ruffled. _I guess we’re both in the habit of seeing to whatever the trouble is, now_ , she found herself thinking.   
“Any idea what-” made it out of her mouth as, “I think the Silver Arrow is in trouble!” made it out of Tom’s.   
Both blinked, and the thought that it might be smart to head back to bed after having narrowly escaped getting noticed last night had enough time to form - looking like both a shameful _and_ a smart thought in the process - before the back door went _slam_ itself, and in came their father…   
Wielding a shovel, and a very perplexed expression.   
\---   
A short while later, they all found themselves around the kitchen table - their parents with coffee, Kate and Tom (after very little persuasion) with hot cocoa - as their father attempted to explain himself.   
Most of the explaining was required, not for the kids, but a _very_ grouchy and impatient-looking wife and mother.   
“I - I was looking to make taking the train away easier - for your birthday, dear,” he began - which did have some mollifying effect, only for her to gesture for him to _go on._ _  
_ “I was lucky I wasn’t on it, though I _was_ close by. And no one was driving it, I solemnly swear. It… perhaps that Herbert left something in it?”   
Kate studied their mom’s face - and it was _quite_ an expression now, to tell the truth.   
“Not something with that much of a delay,” she replied, after a _very_ long sip of coffee.   
“He couldn’t have pulled it off. … More to the point, after all that noise, shouldn’t we have gotten a call by now? Or at least _a_ neighbor nosing on by, let alone the numbers from yesterday.”   
Kate and Tom looked at each other with equal amounts of apprehension in their expressions - fortunately, both parents were more preoccupied with each other rather than their children.   
Seconds ticked by, until the two standing adults sighed - and, caught by surprise, laughed at the synchronicity.   
“If it comes back, that’ll mean fewer questions in the end,” their mother concluded.   
“But if it doesn’t… hnn.”   
“I _am_ sorry, Kate,” their father said, turning to his daughter at last and looking quite shamefaced.   
“I’ll… I’ll see what I can do.”   
“Can we help?” Both Kate and Tom had begun to say it, though she let Tom finish voicing the question.   
All of them turned to look at their mother. “Emily,” their father said, hesitating.   
“... _Fine._ But you two still have school tomorrow, don’t forget! And I don’t want the two of _us_ preoccupied with any more foolishness when we’re back at work, either,” she finished, possibly appending a silent prayer at the end that this headache, whatever its ultimate cause, would end soon.

\---  
For the porcupine, all that had visibly changed for him was a bit of the scenery. And that there were more turtles than he remembered there being.  
And that he had more friends. That was much more important than turtles.  
In any case, he had simply been having a regular day in the woods before happening to wander by the old train tracks located there - with a very _familiar_ train situated on them.  
"Bit early for you to be back out, isn't it?" the porcupine remarked.

The _Silver Arrow_ was silent - at which point the porcupine remembered that, magic or not, the only way for the steam train to communicate was on its _inside_ , not the outside.  
 _It's not like humans,_ he found himself thinking wryly, as he approached. _Much harder to tell what the things humans make are thinking.  
_ Unlike their creators, who seemed to have trouble figuring out what they _themselves_ were thinking.

Once he was close enough, he noticed a very peculiar detail; not only did the train still have steam up, it appeared to be vibrating.  
“Well,” he announced. “If you’re here, you must have a reason. Just - you have steam up, don’t you? Just _chuff_ or whichever if you understand, or agree with me.”  
That seemed a simple enough system to work with to him - moreover, if the train disagreed, he couldn’t exactly tell.

One _chuff_ resounded, only to be quickly muffled by the surrounding trees.  
“That should do, then. I take it neither of our mutual friends came along?”

No _chuff_ \- if this hadn’t been a magic train, the porcupine would be much more concerned.  
Which didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned at all, not in the least, just that there were fewer things to be concerned about.

Given the state of the world, that was all to the good.

“Do you remember coming out here on your own?”  
There was a prolonged pause, but eventually there came another _chuff.  
_ “Ah. I don’t suppose any of those humans saw?”

The porcupine didn’t really expect a yes, but the next _CHUFF_ of steam almost deafened him.  
“ _Oh_. Hm, I see why _that_ would have you bothered. Can you turn yourself around?”

Another long pause, another _chuff.  
_ “Good. We can start there.”

\---  
In the end, it wasn’t nearly as drawn-out a process as the children had feared; their mother had insisted on taking the lead, after having first looked like she’d preferred to stay _home_ and make sure none of the neighbors came calling after all.

Kate really wasn’t sure what to make of it. It wasn’t as if anyone had called her mother a coward, and yet she was acting as if she thought some part of her reputation was on the line. _Maybe it’s like with what Uncle Herbert said,_ she thought. _Mom never really forgot, either. She just_ wants _to believe none of it was real._

And this morning had just proved there might have been something to that ‘dream’ after all.  
And-

Kate felt a hope, though she felt she had right to be suspicious _of_ that hope at the same time. _And maybe she wants to know the truth._

\---  
They found the train together - it had already been turned around, somehow, and both Tom and Kate were palpably relieved at that.

(Their parents, meanwhile, again exchanged Looks.)

Kate made a show of wanting to go with Tom and check no one _had_ damaged the train after all; their father looked abashed after trying to ‘correct’ her on the details of what had happened.

 _‘Are you all right?_ ’ Tom asked, in a very pointed, _very strained_ whisper. Kate wanted to hold her head in her hands at her brother’s manner, but at the same time she’d been thinking the exact same thing, so she let it slide.

YES

NO

I DON’T KNOW

Kate and Tom looked at each other, and Kate could make no show of hiding her worry anymore.  
“If it helps any, I _don’t_ think dad’s going to try that again, whatever it was,” Kate said.

GOOD

“You ran into anybody out here?” That was Tom.

ONLY THE PORCUPINE

HE’S ADJUSTING FINE, JUST SO YOU KNOW

“Right now,” Kate said again, “We’re more concerned about _you._ ”

I AM TOO

There was a pause, then, a click- _bing_ that sounded distinctly hurried:

I DON’T KNOW WHY I RAN

I KNOW HE COULDN’T HAVE HURT ME AND YET

...  
The _Silver Arrow_ went silent again - Kate, turning around, was the first to see their parents crowded at the door to the cab.  
“It’s fine,” she assured them. “Just - look, we _should_ be able to handle this ourselves....”

There was a prolonged pause. Then, after allowing herself three seconds of hating herself, she said, “You want to come on in?”  
Both parents hastily declined. “We’ll walk home, Thomas,” their mother said - adding, _“Walk,_ Thomas,” pointedly when he didn’t immediately get with her program.

It would have been funny at any other time, but neither Kate nor Tom could appreciate it right then.

Turning back to the controls, and the firebox, they were met with one more message.

I JUST WANT TO GO BACK HOME, NOW

PLEASE?

“You got it,” Kate said, voice warm with relief.


	2. Sibling Banter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will vary in length - this one's on the shorter side!

Two days after Kate’s birthday, once they were both home from school, Tom flung himself ahead of his sister and down onto her bed with a  _ flumph _ of the covers.  
“Really?” she asked, as pointedly as her nose looked.

(Did most noses get that pointy? Tom wondered if they were some kind of anomaly.)

“Don’t you think it’s weird how…  _ normal _ everything is, now?”  
Uncle Herbert had said that their journey would feel like a dream - but Tom, frankly, felt like a lot of life had that sort of floaty aspect  _ anyway. _ And he really WANTED to keep the memories, so there!

“We just go back to school, back to homework and chores… and lessons. Do you think people are going to notice that?”  
The question brought his sister’s own next question up short.  _ See? I don’t have to be on a magic train to be right! _

“And, I mean, after yesterday…”  
Kate made a face, but nodded.

“But not just that; I don’t know how we were going to hide everything. I don’t  _ think _ mom saw Foxy, but - he’s part of the magic now too, isn’t he?”  
“Wouldn’t dad just think he’d found a plush fox that looked similar at the thrift store, or something?” But Kate didn’t look like she accepted that line of thought all too well, even as she said it.

“I mean, maybe? But-”   
Tom frowned, reached over to grab Kate’s pillow, and began to play with it.

“Mom, dad, they both remember how much Foxy meant to me. I don’t think they’d have made excuses like that up, just to make me feel better.”  
Kate didn’t seem to have a counter to that - and so she changed topics, something Tom was used to from her.

“So, about those lessons-” Her eyes went wide.  
“Oh,  _ no. _ We can’t - Tom, we spent  _ three weeks _ building up arm strength, with all that coal!”   
“And the wood, don’t forget the wood,” he replied, almost solely to be contrary.

“Right, yeah, that too. Point is, tennis is going to be a  _ nightmare. _ And you, and hapkido-”  
“I can pretend!” Tom insisted, though he knew full well it wouldn’t just be something his instructor would chalk up to his usual enthusiasm-slash-attention-span.

“Uh-huh. Music lessons’ll be fine, I’m sure, but people  _ notice _ when someone shows off without trying to look like they are! What are we gonna  _ do? _ ”   
Tom made himself wait, counting in his head, before saying, “Nothing. Weren’t we going to try and get out of those lessons anyway, come summer?”

Not that he could imagine what summer would look like from here, but it seemed the thing to say.  
“... True. But somehow, I just  _ know _ there’s going to be something we’ll forget.”

“Suuuure.”  
Kate grabbed her pillow back, just to throw it at him - but she was smiling, which meant Tom could count  _ this _ conversation a success!


	3. A Walk in the Woods

Three days after Kate’s birthday, Thomas finally had to admit to himself that if he couldn’t make a present for Emily out of removing their… _unexpected addition_ , he’d have to make her something himself.  
He’d never liked shopping for gifts - not so much for the children, but for his wife. It only seemed more right to give her something made with his own hands.  
For that, he needed inspiration. And given he’d never get that at work, and the house wasn’t exactly the best place for quiet contemplation with - with the _life-sized train outside…_  
That left the woods, preferably the parts of it without the railroad tracks. And it was true he hadn’t gone on a walk for himself in a long while.  
And so that evening he neglected to put his jacket away after work, kissed his wife and let her know he was going to take some time for himself, and set out to find inspiration wherever it might lay.  
\---

  
He found himself whistling in the woods, something he hadn’t done since he was a child - and perhaps the mood was just whimsical enough, but he thought there was an animal looking at him - no really, as in  _ really _ looking at him.   
Thomas quirked his brow and, riding the moment, gestured for the porcupine to follow him.

And, to his shock, it  _ did. _ “I don’t suppose,” he hazarded. “That the trees around here are a favorable sort?”

There were a few moments of silence, which he expected - and then it shrugged, which he most emphatically did  _ not. _

And yet-

And yet, perhaps he’d brought this on himself, conjured up some inspiration on his own, out of whole cloth!

They kept walking, the two of them; one average-sized man, one average-sized porcupine.

Perhaps Thomas was imagining it when the porcupine said, “I don’t suppose that those railway tracks have been favorable for you, either?” - but, if he was going to be the proverbial Alice in Wonderland, far be it from him to shove the moment away.

He’d curse himself later if he did so, no doubt; this had just gotten  _ interesting. _

“Well, they have and they haven’t-” he began, then doubled back.   
“Hold on; how are you familiar with them?”

“Well, this isn’t precisely my first forest - or woods, if we must be exact…”  
\---

The conversation had only gotten stranger from there - more bizarre, and yet not  _ too bizarre to be true _ ; Humans had dreamed of stranger things, he was well aware.  
And explaining what his job was to an  _ animal _ was probably about as bizarre; what had a dog or a snake or a porcupine to do with money flow and spreadsheet filters?

Thomas found himself returning home with some very peculiar thoughts in his head - and more than enough inspiration to carve something meaningful for his wife.  
He also came home with questions - and when Tom, his own lovely boy, made to ask about them, Thomas… found himself dodging it.

“Just had an enlightening conversation with myself in the woods, that’s all, nothing to worry about. Well, myself and the porcupine, of course.”  
And he’d winked. Tom, wide-eyed, went to bed  _ without _ his usual flood of questions.


	4. Not Even Not!Train School

School was - well, it wasn’t  _ boring _ anymore, not now that she was really looking, but some parts about it still were.   
Like roll call; unless something really, really dramatic happened, most students like her could get away with not paying attention at all. Some kids even got away with not tuning back in for the lesson, which Kate had always found unfair.   
_ Are we really here to learn? And, if we are, just  _ what _ are we learning, exactly? _

She was in social studies right now, but the lessons weren’t very… well, not just not  _ hands-on _ exactly (it was a large enough class that bringing in props caused as much mess as it did interest, and her teacher didn’t seem very able to cope with that), but simply rote.   
‘Here’s a little about  _ this _ person, from  _ this _ time and place…’  
_  
_ She thought, more than a little ruefully, of the  _ Silver Arrow _ and how running a steam train was  _ far _ better than… whatever this was.   
It might even have had a few words about her teacher’s much more obviously hands-off manner - and the thought of a  _ train _ knowing how to better be interactive made her giggle, so much so that her peers nearby gave her sidelong glances.   
She stopped giggling in a hurry, and got back to focusing on the lesson.   
\---

Lunch was when things started going as wrong as she’d feared.

“Kate. Katy-Kat, you’ve  _ got _ to show us your birthday gift! It’s been on the news!”

Kate, staring back with as blankly-unamused a look as she could manage, knew for a fact her family - let alone  _ her train _ \- had  _ not _ been on the news, and she was glad for it.   
That didn’t seem enough to bring up at the moment, however, so she opted for another tack.   
“You sure you can’t see it from your house?”  
  
The girl across from her - not one of her friends, just someone she recognized from math class - rolled her eyes. “But it’s not the  _ same. _ Just,  _ please? _ It’s the biggest thing that’s happened here in  _ forever. _ ”  
  
They were beginning to draw a crowd, Kate noticed. And she  _ refused _ to let any nerves show; she’d gone up against real wild animals before, and these kids had  _ nothing _ on them.   
And as for herself… Well, she admitted, if only to herself, that she could understand wanting to be a part of something bigger.

“What, do  _ all _ you want to come? My house isn’t that big.”  
  
“Not the house, just the backyard.”   
“I’ll bring snacks!”   
“Mom’s been looking for an excuse to have me visit someone else’s house again…”   
“ _ Please _ , Kate?”  
  
This last one was from a friend - Max, who had the same black hair and darker skin, and wore wire frame glasses.  
  
They weren’t Grace Hopper’s glasses, but they did look great on Max.  
  
And Kate finally smiled.  
  
“All right, all right! I have to break it to mom first, though, so it  _ can’t _ be tonight. Thursday at the earliest.”   
Everyone cheered, and Kate couldn’t help her bemusement at it all.  
  
“You’re gonna like this  _ way _ more than Vanimals…”   



	5. Emily (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Definitely_ a shorter chapter than normal. Part two of this is, according to schedule, in two days!

Emily Linda Greening was a perfectly fine parent. Emily Linda Greening was a warm and loving wife. Emily Linda Greening was an  _ exceptional _ Law Clerk.  
  
Emily Linda Greening, 42, was most certainly  _ not _ afraid of trains. There was simply no reason for her to go near them. That the brother she’d loathed for years (which most certainly wasn’t for regret, or envy) had found some reason  _ from her own daughter _ to come  _ crawling _ back into Emily’s life,  _ specifically with a steam engine _ of all things, was most certainly beside the fact-  
  
The snap of a pencil brought her back into focus; wincing, she reassured herself that at least it wasn’t a pen.  
  
At least she hadn’t scratched the paper.  
  
_ At least he’d agreed to take the blazed thing away…  
  
_   
Emily went back to filling out her latest form with as much grace as she could muster, and did her best to cast her focus on other things.  
  
As her mind wandered, she thought of how her children -  _ both _ her children - had complained not one little bit about chores the past five days.   
(Perhaps they themselves had failed to notice.)  
  
They stood straighter, talked back less but asked questions  _ more _ , and even when they opted to spend time outside with  _ the train _ , they both did their homework, took more interest in what their parents did when they weren’t at home (though not necessarily all in a  _ positive _ light)...   
  
She was, perhaps, annoyed at how proud she was feeling.  
  
_ But how had it all happened?  
_   
One train showing up shouldn’t have changed so much, even though Kate still seemed set on becoming a computer programmer (something she supported, admittedly), and Tom was still hugging his stuffed fox whenever he thought no one was looking-   
… But when, exactly, had that fox come back?   
  
Maybe- maybe there was  _ more _ to this magic than she’d been willing to consider. She needed to talk to Thomas.   
  
Unfortunately for her, work couldn’t wait.   



	6. Retrospective Analysis and (Attempted) Discussions

“-I don’t know, Thomas. I just don’t know how they could have-”   
“Aged a few months overnight?”    
He finished, causing her to mix a smile and a grimace - not a great look.   
“Better than a few  _ years _ , I suppose. If they had become complete layabouts, or acted like perfect little robotic children, that’d be another thing - instead, they’re just more  _ responsible. _ You heard the call from Tom’s teacher, didn’t you?”   
Thomas nodded. Apparently their son had broken  _ up _ a fight, holding both his ground and the two other childrens’ attention.   
It was - well, it wasn’t  _ out _ of Tom’s character, not really, but it had been a surprise, if a pleasant one.   
“I’m half expecting to hear from them that they want to start volunteering next,” Emily continued. “Not that I can imagine  _ where _ just now.”   
“That’d be a good idea, actually,” Thomas offered. “Give them something more productive to do than their lessons.”   
That it would look better on any future hypothetical resumes arose in both their minds - but was carefully put aside for later.  _ Much _ later.   
“Possibly something with animals? Lord knows if how they treated that porcupine in the woods was any example, they’d do quite well-”   
“Porcupine?” Emily was baffled. “You hadn’t mentioned that one before, dear. Tell me?”   
And so Thomas did, as Emily’s eyebrows rose higher and higher…   
\---   
By the end of the explanation - story, almost, but with enough details in there that Thomas could tell he’d touched on  _ something _ that resonated - she was significantly paler as well.   
“Emily? Are you all right, my love? I- I know the tale  _ is _ tall, and how three-plus weeks happened in less than even an hour he didn’t seem to know, but-” But that didn’t seem to be why she couldn’t focus on his face, couldn’t meet his eyes.   
She shook her head faintly, before forcefully exhaling and lowering her head into her hands.   
“...  They shouldn’t have been able to finish that journey. They shouldn’t have been able to get up there at all.”   
“Get up  _ where _ ? Dear, what do you mean?”   
“I- I… I think- no, I  _ know _ I’ve been there.” She was still pale, but breathing more regularly now. “I’ve seen that cliff, there’s no way-”   
Thomas had gotten up from his side of the sofa, coming around to rest his hands gently on his wife’s shoulders. “The porcupine didn’t call it a cliff, but how do  _ you _ know of - of any of this?” Silence was the response… at first.   
  
“We were kids - Herbert and I,” she said softly; a bit of anger came into her voice as she went on, “it was  _ his _ fault we were even out there in the first place; I wouldn’t… okay, so I  _ was _ curious about working on a  _ train _ of all things, but mostly I just wanted to protect him. I felt I had to.”   
“From what?”   
“Everything,” Emily sighed. “I  _ was _ the older child. We didn’t question that we’d been chosen, but we didn’t  _ ask _ for a journey. No- no letters asking for birthday gifts.”   
“And yet, you found it anyway.”   
“Or it found us,” Emily said, voice low - surly, even. Thomas carefully weighed his options - the questions yet to be asked, that  _ needed _ to be asked - versus making sure his wife was all right, and would be okay.   
The latter won out; he began rubbing circles on her back, and he could both feel and see her relaxing under his touch despite herself..   
“It’s not… it’s not the same thing.”   
“And what if it is?”   
She leaned back, slowly, all the way until she met his eyes. Even upside-down, there was a clear fire in them now.    
“Then… I want to know how they did it. No, I  _ need _ to.”   
\---   
_ How did they succeed where I didn’t? _   
And what did that say about them - what did that say about  _ her? _   
  
A part of her was scared to find out.   
  
Emily Linda Greening told that part of herself to  _ mind its own business. _


	7. Some Chat in the Cab

There was no need for a train to be ‘awake’ between trips - that was the difference between stopping at stations and coming to a rest at whatever was considered ‘home.’   
Only, now that it  _ had _ a home, the Silver Arrow found itself-   
( _ the crackling of ice, the rails spreading until they are g o n e _ )   
distracted.  
  
Truly, that  _ interruption _ mere hours later had not helped matters… but, as it had explained, that should not have made a difference, it should not have reacted at all.   
( _ one by one you lose the carriages, your charges,  _ your _ conductors are in danger, water rushing in, you capsize, sinking, sinking,  _ d r o w n i n g-)   
But some distractions were not so unwelcome - much as the Silver Arrow made a show of reacting otherwise.  
  
“Hey,  _ Silver Arrow _ ! You busy?”

WITH WHAT?   
THE SCENERY IS NICE, I SUPPOSE…

“Alright, alright, you knew what I meant!”  
  
“Kate, Kate, wait for me!”  
  
And where one conductor went - even now they were both off-duty - so came the other. At least when it came to  _ this _ , they seemed to prefer to be together; the Silver Arrow had to wonder if there was something to that - if, if it had been exposed to more humans aforehand, it could have drawn some kind of pattern.   
“Still,” Kate continued, flopping down with a flourish into her preferred seat. “What  _ do _ you do all day? I know we-”    
Here she gestured to Tom, who was taking his own seat and- yes, rolling his eyes.   
“Still have school, and other people’s houses we can visit if we want, but you’re just… out here. For the next three weeks, or-”  
  
She cut herself off, but they all knew what she meant.   
“Maybe we could help?” That was Tom, looking rather thoughtful. “We could power that generator back up and bring some electronics on board, give you something to do?”   


MAGIC AND ELECTRONICS DO NOT MIX WELL   
THOUGH I APPRECIATE THE THOUGHT.

Which, while true enough, wasn’t the _whole_ of its thought; if it did interact with the more quote-unquote “modern” parts of the world it was meant to be used to help protect, wouldn’t that inevitably change how it felt about the world itself? Kate and Tom did not seem too much worse the wear for the exposure, but as for itself the Silver Arrow could not help but feel wary.  
( _all that water rushing, crushing you - crushing_ them _, those you were made to protect, too late to help them, too late too-_ )  
And it had more than enough to feel wary of, or so _it_ thought.  
  
\---  
The conversation continued pleasantly enough - Kate seemed to enjoy piecing apart what she was being taught in school more than she was _learning_ it, and both Tom and the Silver Arrow enjoyed being a “peanut gallery” to that effect.

But something was weighing on Kate’s mind like an improperly-placed brake shoe, and the Silver Arrow wasn’t content letting her leave in such a state.   
“It’s just-” she said, glancing away from the ticker-text display (not that it made much of a difference to the Silver Arrow where Kate looked). “All of the kids in my class were - okay, not  _ all _ of them, but a good half the class - they wanted to come see you. And I said yes before thinking about how  _ you _ would feel, so-”   
She shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure they won’t stay long-”  
  
“We’ve handled  _ way _ worse than the kids in your grade!” Tom volunteered - which, while probably the truth, still made Kate make an annoyed face.  
  
“And I’ll have to get final word from my mom either way  _ anyway _ . So-?”   
  
The Silver Arrow hesitated, as much to let the pause itself be a kind of punishment over anything else-   
And- it wasn’t  _ afraid _ of anything going wrong, not with this. This would be, at worst, what it would be like to be a museum piece instead of an actively-used steam train; a few dirty hands, loud voices. This wouldn’t be an encounter with impossible tracks or wild boars seeking a free ride to where they didn’t belong.   
( _ Or a man with a shovel where  _ he _ didn’t belong. Or water- _ )   
Just children. Children who  _ didn’t _ know about the magic.   


I’LL BE FINE

  
Maybe not  _ happy _ , admittedly, but for an evening, ‘fine’ was enough.   



	8. (I have no title for this one, just grab some popcorn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, another longer chapter!

“And that’s why I want them to come over - just for an hour or less, after dinner tomorrow,” Kate finished explaining.  
Her mother stood waiting, a more thoughtful look on her face than Kate could have hoped for.  
  
“You’ve put more thought into this than I thought you might - a _lot_ more.”  
Her mother tapped her foot - not impatiently; that was just one of her tells that she was thinking.  
“Not like with what happened when you tried to show off your ‘bike tricks’ earlier last year-”  
  
“I learned a lot from then,” Kate said hurriedly. “And a train is, like, _way_ harder to replace than a bike. I figure, make things as low-key as possible, they’ll get bored, like all kids do.”  
She found herself saying it, and realized how _strange_ it was her for her, a kid, to say that about _other_ kids. Her mom seemed to notice it, too.  
  
“You almost sound like me, when you talk like that.”  
  
Kate didn’t have a response, not right away. “Maybe… maybe I want to be more like you. Someday, I mean,” she backtracked.  
Her mother’s expression was unreadable, now - but not, as Kate had feared before starting this conversation, in a bad way.  
  
“Don’t think I’m not paying attention - like with that coding passion of yours.”  
Kate didn’t think she could straighten in her chair at the kitchen table any _more,_ and yet she was.  
“A long time ago I had passions like that,” her mother said - the words seemed to come from a depth, and Kate found herself drawn to that.  
“I… didn’t get to keep them.”  
  
_You mean law_ isn’t _your passion? ,_ Kate thought but carefully did not say.  
  
“But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t, and this-” her mother made a hand gesture to refer to ‘the whole situation you’re planning’, “shows you’re willing to handle responsibility, too. That’s important, Kate. More than just your birthday gift by itself.”  
A silence came in; not hostile, just a mother and daughter figuring out what to say next.  
  
“... I’ll make sure they don’t bring dirt in the house, either. And if they want snacks, they have to bring their own, or-”  
“Or you’ll pay for it?”  
This time, her mom was smiling.  
“I got what you mean, dear. I think that will work just fine - as long as you mean it when you say they’ll be an hour or less!”  
Kate could have punched the air in glee - and she didn’t even notice until much later, that her mother had for once failed to refer to “her birthday gift” with any disdain…  
\---  
  
The first hurdle of the night of the party was that the number of kids that showed up was more fitting _of_ a party.  
At the least, it looked like more than just her class had decided to gather in the street at the agreed-upon time.  
“No,” Kate said firmly, standing on the front porch with her arms folded.  
“You’re not coming into _my_ family’s backyard all at once. Not to come and see _my_ train.”  
  
There was some disagreement with this position, but after several minutes’ negotiation (and some stern looks supplied by her mother), the crowd settled at five kids coming in at a time.  
“Maybe we _should_ have charged for this,” Kate found herself muttering - and, out of the corner of her eye, saw Tom sneaking off around back.  
_Eh, he’s not the star tonight or anything. As long as he doesn’t try to get on the roof while we’re busy…  
_  
Whether that should be the roof of the house or the roof of the _Silver Arrow,_ Kate couldn’t be sure.  
\---  
  
The next challenge, which Kate had been expecting, sort of, was that her peers wanted to mess around with the _Silver Arrow_ itself. Some in obviously-stupid ways (“No, _don’t_ put food down there, not unless _you_ want to have to clean it up!”), some in the just plain obvious but _not_ stupid ways (“Yeah, we _can_ drive it and all, but it takes too long if you want something really enjoyable - look, if everything’s still fine by summer, I’ll let you know, but not before then!”), and some…  
  
“Hey, is there some voice-to-text deal in here?” one of her older classmates - John, she thought his name was - said, poking at the printing-press device’s output slot.  
Kate hid a wince, doing her best to play it cool. “Why would it do that? It _is_ a train.”  
“Oh.” John looked disappointed more than anything, and Kate swiftly hid any and all wishes that the _Silver Arrow_ would respond, even with the fire out. _If everyone finds_ that _out…_  
Kids or not, word would get out. And the very idea of _more_ people coming in to poke around made her skin crawl…  
Or was that just her worry?  
\---  
  
_This is fine,_ the Silver Arrow repeated to itself, trying to keep itself distant from the actions going on in its interior. It was well-used to noise, to fiddling - even to obnoxious questions.  
But it was far easier to feel crowded with numbers of humans around than animals, even when they were only children. Poking around the pipes and wanting to blow the whistle - even if it was futile - was one thing.  
  
Unfamiliar people poking around its firebox was quite another. And, while it didn’t want to add to _Kate’s_ stress - she’d already been worried about this causing it strain somehow - it had to admit that this whole situation was having…  
An impact. Perhaps that was the word for it. Yes, an _impact._  
  
And, strictly speaking, it was cheating to be ‘awake’ in this manner in the first place; one of the stipulations they had agreed on was that it would not have to have steam up - indeed, that not even being able to blow the whistle would be part of the plan to deflect the children’s attention. But… the Silver Arrow had wanted to know _why_ it had reacted the way it had, that first day - and, having found a loophole in the magic (having been curious as to why the crowd of humans _in a train station_ had failed to notice it), had put up a sort of perception cloak that it could ‘hide’ behind. Even those particularly brave/foolish/alarming children who were putting their hands _in its firebox_ would get the memo to put their hands back before causing any notable harm.  
  
But, even then, it was _still_ twitchy. It began to regret its own presumption. In fact-  
  
_BANG!_  
\---  
  
The kids - Kate, her latest round of “partiers” - and the train itself all jumped, some more noticeably than others.  
After a not-insignificant pause, Kate reluctantly leaned out the doorway.  
  
“Tom?”  
  
It was the only explanation that made sense; her mother and father were indoors (she could even see their incredulous expressions through the kitchen window), the vast majority of the crowd of kids had either had their turn or gotten bored enough to go home…  
  
And there was a board in the backyard.  
  
“... I kicked it!”  
  
Looking up at the source of the faint call, Kate couldn’t help but stare.  
  
_“Why’d you open the window?!”_ she called - managing to catch her mother making a _very_ unamused look before disappearing from where she stood - presumably to go have a _talk_ with Kate’s brother.  
Kate did not envy him but, while she got the feeling the night’s festivities were over, she couldn’t help but be relieved as well.  
\---  
  
“You’re grounded?”  
_"Just_ grounded, more like. If anything, I’m lucky; if it hadn’t worked you looked like you’d have started something yourself.”  
“How could you tell, from all the way up there?”  
“... I could see steam?”  
There was a moment wherein the two siblings simply stared at each other - until, simultaneously, they facepalmed.  
_“I thought it was_ asleep!”  
“And _I_ thought you were sending a signal!”


	9. A Penultimate Conversation

One more day.  
One day to go, and Emily found herself staring out the back window at what, someone would have assumed from looking at her face, was like a ghost from her own past.  
One more day of having this train - and its misnomic name - in _her_ backyard, and her brother would come take it away and she could call herself done with it all.  
  
But if she let that day pass under her fingers, she feared - no, she _knew_ \- she’d never get another chance to ask.  
Her children would obfuscate - and, after seeing the lengths Tom had gone to last night, she had no doubt that they would cover for each other if pushed. Her brother was no option at all - she could still barely be in a room with him without the tension swallowing them both, assuming her temper didn’t get the better of her first.  
  
But if magic was real, she had another option.  
\---  
  
The Silver Arrow could easily count up all the separate incidences of Kate and Tom’s mother staring oddly at it.  
What wasn’t as countable was the decreasing degree of enmity in those stares - and the one it was currently up against on _this_ morning was the least severe yet.  
It could not say what compelled her to cross the few feet to the tracks, or what compelled her to board (with one last double-check back at the house - did she expect her children to follow her?), or what it meant when she folded down one of the seats only to lean on it instead of sit.  
  
But it found itself more curious than wary. And, after a double-check of its own, dropped the perception-blocking magic.  
\---  
  
Emily felt her jaw drop. _What?_  
True, she’d seen Kate manage the train the day after her birthday - with an unexpectedly practiced hand, at that - but nothing was maintaining that fire now, there was _no_ reason for this engine to be at full steam…  
While she wrestled with what had to be some echoes of sensory memory, there came a click- _bing._  
\---

HELLO?

The Silver Arrow waited, tamping down its own stress, for a response.  
“I…”  
Mrs. Greening’s resolve appeared to waver - several distinct emotions crossed her face - but she did settle, and simply said, “I had a question.”

I SUPPOSE YOU MUST HAVE  
OR ELSE YOU WOULD NOT HAVE COME ALL THIS WAY

Mrs. Greening made a strange sort of noise - somewhere between a sigh and a laugh.  
“Well, _that_ is true enough - but.”  
She stopped there for a long moment, only to continue: “I heard about the journey my children took. Your… conductors.”

I KNOW YOUR FEELINGS MUST BE MIXED-

Her eyes widened, and there was an almost imperceptible decrease in tension, in how she held herself.  
“That’s… also true. But what I wanted to know was: that track. I- we-”  
She struggled with the words - and with no doubt with the emotions behind them - and the Silver Arrow let her have time to think.  
_“How_ did you pass that impassable track?”  
And there it was. The Silver Arrow was not precisely regretting this conversation - that Mrs. Greening had been willing to entertain the possibility, as well as the leap of faith, of talking to it at all meant much, and it would be unwise to discard it lightly. _But,_ there was no getting around that the situation had been _dangerous._  
Parents, no matter what kind of animal they were, were protective of their children; they did not like only being able to hear about that danger.  
The Silver Arrow knew this.  
In the end, there was only one thing it could say.  
\---  
  


ROCKETS.

  
\---  
  
There was silence, for a time. One nervous human adult; one nervous steam engine.  
“We would never have thought of that,” Emily admitted - but she sensed there was more to say.  
“We- Herbert wanted to try to climb anyway, by hand if we had to, but I said no. And our- it just didn’t-” _want to try_ “Why… did you let them try?”  
\---

BECAUSE I TRUSTED THEM.  
AND KATE TRUSTED TOM, AS WELL  
THOUGH I DID HAVE TO REMIND HER THAT THERE WERE TIMES  
THAT DID NOT CALL FOR A SMART REMARK

Mrs. Greening - Emily stopped leaning on her seat with a _fwump._ “That… that sounds like her.”

IT MAY BE BEST TO TELL THEM THAT YOU KNOW, NOW.


	10. ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today, MUCH longer chapter next time!
> 
> Aka: it's almost flashback time. :) :D :]

There was, as it came out, much more to tell than that.

There was shouting, there was regret  _ over _ the shouting, apologies and arguments both - along with a much more thorough explanation of what, exactly, Kate and Tom had gotten up to in what had supposedly been the few minutes between Kate shutting herself in her room and the children being called to dinner.  
  
Thomas had needed to be called over as well - mostly to verify that he  _ had _ in fact met a porcupine, not just a figment of his own imagination - but he eventually had to bow out.   
As did Tom, who was still in trouble for his stunt the previous night; there was furniture that needed mending, and while their father would have to do the bulk of the work Tom had to tag along.   
“It  _ is _ responsibility,” Thomas said with a shrug, and Tom couldn’t disagree.   
  
Once mother and daughter (and engine) were alone again, for a time they simply stared at each other.   


THIS FEELS FAMILIAR

“Quiet, you,” came two voices, simultaneously - and then laughter.  
  
Kate paused - then: “It’s right, though; I heard… about you and Uncle Herbert. You were like us as kids, weren’t you? Only…”   
She broke off, sounding guilty, but her mother knew what she was getting at.   
“Only we gave up. Is that what you meant?”  
  
Kate nodded.   
“And, I just - I want to hear from you about this, not him. Why  _ did _ you, ah, give up? Did you argue over it, did you crash the  _ Twilight Star _ , did-”  
  
Emily held up a hand; she looked… sad. She glanced over Kate’s shoulder to where the  _ Silver Arrow _ showed its responses, and continued,  
  
“We did fight, Kate, but… in the end we agreed. Me, Herbert… and the  _ Twilight Star. _ ”


	11. Emily (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My only regret is that I didn't figure out a _proper_ way to format the Twilight Star's speech. |D We're stuck with the `tt-text` for this chapter only, though!

Emily Linda Greening was a perfectly normal child. She loved her parents (even when she said she hated them) and her brother (even when he annoyed her), and tackled any bit of work put in front of her with a will and energy that she felt it deserved.  
  
Emily Linda Greening also often thought the world was stupid, and that if people _worked_ to build their way out of problems then the really would. She’d learned recently in school about war, and poverty, and how people were ruining the environment due to their thoughtlessness. _If they just paid_ attention _to what they were doing and, moreover, actually_ looked _at the consequences,_ she figured, _the world would be a better place.  
_  
Emily Linda Greening, only 12 years old, thought herself a cynic.  
  
  
And then her brother had found a train in the woods behind their house.  
“Come on, come _on!_ ” he’d yelled, one hot summer day, when it was almost a shame to be up _that early_ , no matter that he was one year younger than her.  
(Soon to be two years younger.)  
  
_“Herbert,”_ she’d called back, dragging it out even as she’d double-checked her clothes, her shoes, to make sure that _somehow_ she hadn’t left something behind that would be more questionable than her not just being in bed.  
“It’s probably not even real!”  
  
“Why have a ‘probably’ when you can have a _really?_ ”  
  
He had her there, dag-nabit.  
\---  
  
Emily Linda Greening had wanted to be an engineer for as long as she could remember, and so her first instinct upon seeing that it was, really, a steam train, was to get inside and see how it worked.  
“Hey! Emily, can I drive? Please?”  
“Oh I don’t know, _can_ you?”  
Their banter went on in this manner for some time; there had been more than just the engine itself to explore, and while it was empty of _people_ that just made it worse: who had left it there? What was it for?  
Why did it feel like it had been left there for _them?_  
\---  
  
Twenty minutes into their unreserved meddling, both siblings were up in the engine again, muscles sated far more than their curiosity.  
“Well, what are we going to do next?” Herbert asked.  
“We’ll figure it out,” Emily said confidently - and then there came a click- _bing_ , and both their eyes went wide at what they read next.

` AS A MATTER OF FACT, THERE’S A SCHEDULE TO KEEP  
YOU’VE BEEN CHOSEN, AND WE MUST FETCH THE PASSENGERS TO THEIR DESTINATION `

It took a moment for their jaws to recover, and once they _did,_ on came the questions.  
“What schedule?”  
“What passengers? From where? _To_ where?”

` IF ONE OF YOU CAN BEGIN SHOVELING COAL, I WILL EXPLAIN  
AS FOR THE OTHER, I SHALL HELP YOU LOCATE THE BRAKE RELEASE  
WE’VE MUCH TO DO, AND WE MUSTN’T BE LATE! `

There was no arguing with _that_ sort of to-do attitude - but Emily thought she rather liked it.  
\---  
  
On the one hand, in retrospect, it had been all too easy to fall into the lull of the magic - to see the wonder of the world, albeit one in which animals and humans could talk in mutually intelligible language.  
On the other, she’d still retained her sense of practicality - which often came to light in telling her brother what _couldn’t_ be done.  
  
Herbert hadn’t liked it, particularly after the time he’d almost lost a tropical bird’s ticket whilst trying to rescue it from some danger at its respective platform - but it wasn’t as if she’d been telling him to think more carefully for _no_ reason, for example.  
That, and the _Twilight Star_ often agreed with her, something else she’d liked about it.

` SO LONG AS IT IS NOT AN IRREVERSIBLE DAMAGE  
AND WE ARE NOT RENDERED LATE  
IT IS PERMISSIBLE. `

Herbert had winced, and apologized again. She’d felt bad about that time, really - in what she considered a generous gesture, she usually let him pull the whistle.  
\---  
  
She’d seen many wonders that summer - animals that surely couldn’t have been found anywhere in her home _continent,_ let alone country or state.  
(The _Twilight Star_ had assured her that it was possible for them to be crossing such distances, though to its consternation it wasn’t always able to explain to an extent that it was satisfied with.)  
  
She’d even visited an island out in the ocean, where supposedly anyone could dig and find a treasure meant for them.  
(Herbert had tried it, but hadn’t shared what he’d found. Emily let him be on that score, because she’d done the exact same thing. She was going to find a _use_ for those supposed scraps, for in her mind a builder’s philosophy meant _anything_ could be made a treasure.)  
  
But it wasn’t all good times - like when he’d brought on near-disaster with the bird, Herbert spent more time talking to the animals than doing the work conductors were supposed to; Emily, though she was loathe to admit it, sometimes forgot how and when to use the reverser, and parts of the _Twilight Star_ were damaged for her mistakes.  
She apologized, tried to fix what she’d made wrong whenever possible, but they had few cars to reuse parts from to begin with.  
And yet, the _Twilight Star_ seemed, if not forgiving, then accepting.  
\---  
  
One time, she’d asked what would happen if there was something she couldn’t fix - or if any of a number of lucky breaks hadn’t happened where they were able to restock on fuel.

` I WOULD GO TO THE ROUNDHOUSE  
AND PRESUMABLY YOU WOULD GO HOME. `

To which Herbert immediately picked up, “What do you mean, ‘presumably’?”

` IT IS NOT SOMETHING I HAVE HAD TO EXPERIENCE  
IN TRUTH, I DO NOT WISH TO HAVE TO GO TO THE ROUNDHOUSE AT ALL  
BUT THAT IS NOT UP TO ME `

“Us,” Emily said quietly. “It’s up to us that you’re kept running.”

` AGAIN, PRESUMABLY  
EVEN JOURNEYS SUCH AS THESE CANNOT LAST FOREVER - YOU WILL HAVE TO GO HOME EVENTUALLY  
YOU COULD LEAVE AT ANY TIME, EVEN; YOU ONLY NEED TO WISH IT SO. `

Emily had balked at that - and a quick glance at her brother proved he was doing the same.  
“But - but that isn’t _fair._ That we get to choose, but you can’t.”

` IT IS SIMPLY PART OF WHO I AM - OR RATHER, _HOW_ I AM.  
I AM NO ANIMAL, HUMAN OR OTHERWISE. I CAN ONLY TRAVEL ON TRACKS PROVIDED FOR ME, USING FUEL FROM THE ENVIRONMENT I AM HELPING TO PRESERVE, WITH THE AID OF HUMANS LIKE YOU.  
I- `

Both humans had stared at the engine, then, both horrified and expectant, waiting for it to finish its sentence.  
“... And?”

` AND I SUPPOSE I ENVY THAT. `

\---  
  
That summer, that journey, had seemed to go on forever - until it came to an abrupt end.  
“What the _blazes_ is that?” dropped promptly out of Emily’s mouth when she caught her first glimpse of the tracks in the _sky._  
Only, she did not say blazes. Such was their collective shock that Herbert did not even bother to repeat her in order to distract her with petty anger, and shortly after Emily’s _real_ anger kicked in.  
“What sort of _blazing numbnuts_ engineering is this?! There’s nothing that I can see that would hold _any_ real train secure, and why in the _world_ would anyone ask engineers - ask any _train_ \- to go just- just _skyclad?!"_  
  
Emily, having gotten down in front of the _Twilight Star_ to best vent her frustration, waved her arms above her at the seemingly-pointlessly-taunting tracks aimlessly.  
“You know, the water, the water was one thing; it was like a tunnel, where the water held itself solid around us like we had a shield. I can take talking animals-”  
“So can I,” Herbert voiced, hesitant, coming up behind her; Emily whirled about and held one finger up ominously.  
  
“ _Shut it_ , I’m not done yet! _Next_ was the whole landscape-connecting thing, because I _know_ we’ve gone around the Earth five times over by now or something, and those biomes or whatever-the-word is do _not_ go together the way they’ve been, but I can live with that! But _THIS…_ ”  
She turned back around, shouting the last word before trailing off, punching the air with a look of anguish on her face, before lowering her arms again.  
  
She sighed. “It’s not _fair,_ is what it is. It’s not right to ask this of us, or the animals, and _definitely_ not for the _Twilight Star._ ”  
Herbert looked absolutely speechless; closing his mouth belatedly, he shook his head rapidly back and forth.  
  
“... But, could the tracks hold _us?_ We could lead the animals up, to - to wherever it is they’re supposed to be going! This isn’t a station, why would we be asked to stop _here?_ ”  
It was Emily’s turn to be stunned. Jumping on this lone opportunity to speak for himself, Herbert pressed on.  
“I’ll - I’ll carry them all up myself if I have to! Just because _you’re_ giving up doesn’t mean I will!”  
  
For a solid minute the three of them - two distraught humans, and one eerily silent train - simply stared at each other.  
“Herbert…” Emily blinked, finding her eyes suddenly wet.  
“ _Please_ don’t. Please… I don’t want to lose you, to wherever it is that track goes. What if you fall - if we _both_ fall - and I can’t explain to _our parents_ that you’re _gone_ because of some _stupid magic?!_ ”  
She hid her head behind her hands, trying to smother her tears. It didn’t work.  
\---  
  
In the end, they asked the _Twilight Star_ what it wanted them to do, to break their tie. Already some of the animals had disembarked from the train, choosing their own path.  
Tellingly, none of them were climbing the tracks.  
\---

` I DO NOT BELIEVE WE CAN MAKE IT  
WE LACK SUFFICIENT RESOURCES TO MAKE THE CLIMB EVEN PLAUSIBLE  
LET ALONE TRULY VIABLE `

Emily turned to look at her brother, lacking much enthusiasm for even an ‘I told you so.’  
Herbert just looked heartbroken.  
Both of them turned, surprised, at the sound of another click- _bing._

` FURTHER, IT WOULD NOT BE RIGHT OF ME  
TO ASK THIS OF YOU  
YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE TO STAY IN THIS DEAD END WITH ME. `

Emily felt a chill run down her spine. “What- what do you mean, _Twilight Star?_ You want us to give up?”  
She’d never been sadder about a figure of authority - even as unorthodox a figure a _train_ made for that slot - agreeing with her on, well, anything.

` WHAT I WANT IS FOR YOU TO MAKE IT HOME SAFE  
AND I KNOW OF A WAY FOR YOU TO DO SO. `

“But, what would happen to _you?”_ That was Herbert, fighting back tears even now, the same as Emily.

` I WILL BE FINE  
I MAY GO BACK TO THE ROUNDHOUSE  
BUT YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE TO GO THERE WITH ME  
AS ATTEMPTING THESE TRACKS WOULD UNDOUBTEDLY PRODUCE  
  
I AM SORRY, EMILY, HERBERT. `

\---  
  
Somehow, the next couple of hours had felt longer than the entire rest of the journey had been - no matter that, once they had “Officially Declared” that they were giving up, they simply found themselves in their backyard on the very same day they had first found the strange train in the woods.  
Both of them had spent time with the animals, figuring out where they wanted to go and whether they’d get there in good time under their own power.  
But both had also, independently, thought of the _Twilight Star_ .  
  
While Emily had driven the train off to a siding, all the while she could hear Herbert walking outside, talking to it.  
Making promises, about keeping the magic alive, and never forgetting, and maybe someday helping someone _else_ get out here.  
But Emily no longer believed in that kind of thinking; instead, she found herself remembering what the train had said about its inherent lack of choice in anything surrounding its life.  
And she remembered her box of scraps.  
\---

` MAY I ASK WHAT THIS IS, EMILY? `

It was downright strange to have the _Twilight Star_ address her by name so many times in one day - but she knew she was going to have a long, long time to adjust to its lack, in the future, so she held herself fast.  
“It’s - well, I don’t know if you’ll like it…” she trailed off, making sure that all the levers were fitted right.  
It had taken a _lot_ of fiddling, a lot of trial-and-error, and of course a lot of physics, but she was at last satisfied with her attempt at a gift.  
She just hoped it _was_ a good gift.  
  
“But - it’s so you can control the amount of coal that gets put in your fire. And.. it’s something you can operate yourself.”  
There came several clicks, but no final _bing_ , for several seconds. Emily held her breath.  
“I can - I can take it apart, if you don’t want it; I know it’s a lot to offer _anyone_ , let alone-”

` NO  
THANK YOU  
I - I WILL CHERISH IT  
AND I DO APPRECIATE IT  
  
I APPRECIATE THE BOTH OF YOU HIGHLY, YOU KNOW  
YOU WERE BOTH GREAT CONDUCTORS. `

To that, Emily had only shook her head, taken off her hat to put over her heart - she didn’t know why she did it, or why she was smiling even against the ache in her chest, but she did it anyway.  
“I don’t know about _that_ _,_ but… you were a great train, _Twilight Star_ . Okay? And-”  
She caught a glimpse of Herbert peeking into the cab.  
“... Goodbye.”  
She ducked out, nearly crashing into her brother, and couldn’t get the words of her resignation out fast enough.  
\---  
  
And, ever since, there’d always been that sorrow - that _you tried_ _,_ that _anger_ \- all tucked back in her mind as if it were a dream.  
And that had been the last she had seen of the _Twilight Star._

_\---  
  
_ There had been a long, almost unbreachable silence, after Mrs. Greening had finished talking.  
The Silver Arrow didn’t know where to even _begin,_ let alone what to react to first - but, somehow, Kate took the lead.  
“Well- Mom, that is - _we’ve_ seen it. It’s still there-”  
“I want to see it.”  
The Silver Arrow hastily clacked out a message:

ARE YOU SURE?

Kate’s mother - Mrs. Greening - _Emily,_ swallowed and nodded.  
“I think… I think I really need to.”


	12. Conclusions/Full Circle

As with many things in life, it hadn’t been as simple as that. Nor had it been as simple, as the Silver Arrow found itself explaining, as Kate and Tom simply steaming up the train and setting back out to that spot right there and then.  
  
For one, that part of the track was close to the midpoint of the route; if they used even the route they already knew, it would take (subjectively) days, if not weeks, to go all that distance over again.   
For another, while Kate and Tom themselves did not have a route scheduled right _then_ , that didn’t mean no one else was on the track - at which point in the discussion, Kate had asked quite pointedly about branch lines.  
  
Emily looked askance, and the Silver Arrow found itself amused that _that_ was when skepticism came back into the picture for the woman… but it was forced to admit that such an unconventional route would be possible, and would indeed solve their stated problems.  
  
Even Thomas Greening had himself a say, though on a very different matter:   
“Isn’t your brother supposed to make an appearance for your birthday tomorrow anyhow? Why not ask him then?”   
Emily shook her head rapidly, to her husband’s notable confusion.   
“I’m _not_ telling him what I’m thinking, about this… not least because I don’t know for sure myself yet. I want to see the _Twilight Star_ . And- when I _do_ see it, I might find myself thinking differently about it. And- other things.”  
  
Thomas had looked lost, but the kids simply nodded, shortly reminding their father that Emily _had_ made Herbert promise to take the _Silver Arrow_ itself back.   
The Silver Arrow itself said nothing, a remnant of their own unpleasant first solo encounter.   
  
To that extent, they settled on the following: Kate and Tom would take Emily out in the _Silver Arrow_ , while Thomas held the fort at home and would play distraction for Uncle Herbert for as much of Emily’s birthday as it took to make the journey.   
“Please tell me you’re going to do something so mundane as _pack_ for this journey; magic may be real, and you may even make that round trip _happen_ for as far as I’m aware, but you’re not going out- back out,” Thomas amended, “without taking care of the basics.”  
  
Kate had held up a placating hand - which looked a little silly, despite her serious expression.   
“We swear, dad. This is _important._ ”  
  
“Important enough that you’ll be able to call?”   
Kate opened her mouth, glanced frantically in Tom’s direction, at which point he took the lead.   
“We’ll take our phones, dad; I dunno about reception, but we _will_ try!”  
  
Thomas took his turn to sigh, while Emily looked wry.   
“... I’ll admit, that _is_ better than nothing. Next?”

  
They continued in that vein for some time, until everything had been ironed out to the entire family’s satisfaction.   
\---  
  
The next day was what Kate had been considering The Day - where, a week ago, she’d been convinced she’d either lose the _Silver Arrow_ completely or would have to rely on Uncle Herbert to provide some inexplicable portable or underground headquarters she and Tom could escape to without notice - which began early and quietly.   
  
It wasn’t quiet for long, of course. “ C’mon, c’mon! ” Tom whispered, cracking open her bedroom door and gesticulating as wildly and quietly as he could manage.   
“I’m _up_ _,_ ” Kate whispered sourly - but she shortly found herself smiling. They had a job to do, support _for_ it, and a schedule to keep!   
There had been time to find a new balance after all.   
\---

Out on the road (okay, rails), the cab felt less crowded than all involved expected - the Silver Arrow could only guess that some previously-unknown facet of the magic was making itself evident, hurrying them all along and keeping them out of both traffic and danger.  
Mrs. Greening- _Emily_ _,_ had been the most bewildered, as it had expected, but she’d kept her thoughts to herself as much as possible.  
  
The two of them - human and train - watched the youngest work, the latter channeling some nervous focus that they’d probably only reserved for last-minute chore or homework completion ‘zone’ until now.  
  
The route shifted, from forest to taiga to mountain range - from branch line to branch line, to seeming branch-of-branch line - but none were really able to focus on the wonder around them.   
Even in the present, the Silver Arrow mused, the humans seemed caught up on thoughts of the past. Emily on the _Twilight Star_ _,_ and the conductors on their time with the trees.   
Or that time they’d nearly fallen off the track.   
Or-   
_Not now, not now! This isn’t time to think about that!_   
The Silver Arrow tried to do just that, and focused again on the present.   
\---

The dilapidated husk of the _Twilight Star_ did not make for much impressive viewing, truth be told - in point of fact, Kate had to practically shout her identification of the old siding when they finally came to that familiar stretch of rail before-   
Before-  
  
Emily had to practically point her head away from the skyward-trailing track by hand, but somehow she managed to look away, managed to damp down on the flood of sensory memories enough to disembark, absently pick up what she’d packed…   
And walked. And walked. And walked-   
“Mom? We’re here.”   
Kate was there beside her, looking up with an expression overflowing with concern - and, not too far behind them, Tom looked down at them from the cab of the _Silver Arrow_ _,_ expression not as detectable but doubtless the same.   
  
It hurt, to see that look on her kids’ faces - but she knew she’d been right in that she _needed_ to be here, in this moment, returning to what had been lost.   
She was still their mother… but she’d been a kid once, too.   
And she couldn’t trick herself into thinking otherwise anymore.   
  
Emily nodded to her daughter, her son - and smiled a tight, small smile.   
“Just… give me a minute, okay?”   
\---

Kate had backed off, keeping her mom in line-of-sight at minimum for as long as she could, and found herself leaning against the _Silver Arrow_ ’s wheels with a sigh.   
“Y’know… mom mentioned that the _Twilight Star_ didn’t want to talk about the Roundhouse either. Is that just procedure, or…?”   
“I wonder if Uncle Herbert knows?” Tom asked, voice raised so he didn’t have to leave the cab to chat.  
  
“Maybe? If he works at the Roundhouse, wouldn’t he have to know?”  
  
Tom went silent - or maybe the _Silver Arrow_ had a reply.   
And sure enough: “It doesn’t know if he knows! I guess that’s weird. You think we should tell mom?”  
  
“Not sure how she’d take it…”   
“Compared to how she’s been handling _this?_ I kinda wanna see it!”  
  
“Oh, _Tom,_ ” Kate drew out, as he’d practically managed to read her mind, and that annoyed her.   
Fortunately - perhaps more for Tom than for her - their mom came back from the siding just then, an oddly peaceful look on her face.   
There was something in her hands, hidden between them from this distance.  
  
Both kids jumped off the train and ran to her; Emily put whatever it was away, only to surprise the two of them with a hug. There was something else that changed as she did, something that shifted, but Kate put it out of her mind with little more than a mental shrug.   
“... That didn’t take all that long,” Tom commented. Kate almost _\- almost_ \- wanted to hit him.   
“Oh. Ii just didn’t take as long to say what I needed to say as I thought it would.”   
Kate broached the next question carefully.   
“And… what was it you needed to say, mom? What did you end up doing?”  
  
“... Forgiveness.”   
\---

WELL?

Emily clearly knew what the Silver Arrow meant.   
“I saw what I needed to see - and…”  
  
There was a certain look on her face, the sort that meant someone was considering something vastly uncomfortable and trying to put it gracefully.   
“You did a good job keeping these two safe. They didn’t give up because they _wanted_ to come through for you.”   
The Silver Arrow was surprised - as was Kate, it was swift to note. Tom seemed less shocked.

THANK YOU  
FOR SAYING THAT   
AND FOR RAISING THEM

Now it was Emily’s turn to look surprised - which it took as a sign for it to change the subject.

NOW  
WHAT ARE WE TELLING HERBERT, EXACTLY?

Emily’s face went through several expressions, only to settle on a secretive smile.  
“You’ll see. Now, let’s all head home, hmm? And I do mean _all_ of us,” she emphasized.   
  
It took the Silver Arrow an entire embarrassing minute to realize what she meant; Kate and Tom, who were less slow on the uptake, cheered and whooped respectively.   
  
It was good to be part of a family.   
\---  
  
There was, almost expectedly, one last surprise when they arrived, at what felt like eight hours after they’d set out but, from the position of the sun, looked more like it had been two.   
There was no truck to take the _Silver Arrow_ away.  
  
Thomas didn’t have the full explanation - and from the look on his face, he was going to be quizzing _someone_ (and quite possibly all of them) later about what the trip had been like - but he _was_ able to say that Herbert had been distracted by another train.   
Something about a sudden appearance - sudden _return_ \- and a challenge that all the repair crews were eager to tackle, that would use up much of their resources for the next two weeks?  
  
… In the end, perhaps that _was_ the best thing to hear. And, perhaps, she should have left it at that.   
But Emily stared at the phone in her hand that evening, one last question circling her mind. _Is it the Twilight Star? Is that the train you found today?  
_   
When she punched in the number she’d long-ago refused to put in for speed-dial on principle, however, she found herself asking something else:   
“Herbert - _Herbert,_ yes I know it’s me, you don’t have to shout… But while I’m here, I don’t suppose you know what your trains think of the Roundhouse…?”  
\---

(Some time later, in the Roundhouse, Herbert found his gaze drifting for what felt like the millionth time to the constantly-surrounded new charge.  
Well, it would be better to say _old_ charge, but all his recruits seemed eager enough that the _Twilight Star_ would awaken an entirely new train.   
  
He would be the first to admit his feelings were mixed, but chief among them was guilt - and perhaps it was okay that he’d hardly had the room and space to contribute to the repair effort.   
He’d already failed this particular train once, after all.   
  
There was constant chatter resounding in the Roundhouse tonight; while he hadn’t brought people on just to _talk_ , it seemed as if catching the _Twilight Star_ up on the times wouldn’t take much either.

And here he was, out on the edges; the outsider looking in.

\---  
  
But even the hustle and bustle of the Roundhouse came to an end; he could scarcely believe it was the same train before him as had been on that warm and uncomfortably sticky summer morning…   
Would it even remember him?

Someone had lit its fire, too; _I spent too much time in my own head_ , he mused wryly. Or, possibly, deliberately distracting himself with helping the other new conductors. He should have at least asked-   
  
His mind stilled at the sound of a click- _bing._

` HELLO? `

Then,

` HERBERT, THERE YOU ARE!   
YOU’RE THE FIRST I’VE RECOGNIZED IN THIS WHOLE PLACE   
WAS THIS YOUR DOING? `

Herbert found himself wishing he had a cap to steady his head, and got down to the job of explaining just what had been going on the past three decades…  
\---  
  
“... So, in the end, I suppose it was, wasn’t it?”   
The man - most definitely no longer a boy, and no more conductor either - finished his tale with a wry chuckle.   
“But I gave up on you, yourself. I never went out to look; I felt I didn’t have the right…”

The _Twilight Star_ ‘looked’ about the Roundhouse; a big, well-lit place, where trains were cared for in truth; people who had a place to work and a cause as big as the world to support.   
All without giving conductors cause to just settle for giving up.   
And it ‘looked’ back at itself; a lost cause brought back anew, all that was left of Emily’s old invention a few ‘ignored’ scratches (left in, no doubt, for the aesthetic), and one framed piece that had, if one looked closely, a heart-shaped hole.

`BUT YOU DID FULFILL YOUR PROMISE `  
AND…   
I COULDN’T BE MORE PROUD.

The look on Herbert’s face was worth every single word.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all (all... four of you, so far) for following this! I do not yet know if I'll write more for this tiny fandom, but at least I can say I'm not finished with writing yet, not by a long shot!


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